Complete Works of Bram Stoker, page 327
‘As the starting time drew near, the Company took their places as they had secured them in the saloon, the first comers getting to the furthest ends. The carriage became by a sort of natural selection divided into two camps. The dogs belonging to either side were in the centre. When “all aboard” had been called out by my Acting Manager after his usual custom, the last of the Company took their places. Then a heavy truck came quickly along the platform, surrounded by several men. It contained two great boxes with unfastened lids, and as there were many hands available these were quickly lifted into the saloon. One was placed opposite the door on the off-side of the carriage, and the other put just inside the door of entry, which it blocked.
‘Then the door was slammed and locked; the Guard’s whistle sounded, and we were off.
‘I needn’t tell you that all this time the dogs were barking and howling for all they were worth, and some of them were only held back by their owners from flying at each other. The cat had taken refuge on a hat-rack, and stood growling, with her tail thickened and lashing about. The frog sat complacently in its box beside its master, and the rats and mice were nowhere to be seen in their cages. When the baskets came in some of the dogs cowered down and shivered, whilst others barked fiercely and could hardly be held back. I got out my Sunday paper and began to read quietly, awaiting developments.
‘For a while the angry dogs kept up their clamour, and one of them, the mastiff, became almost unmanageable. His master called out to me:
‘“I can’t hold him much longer. There must be something in that box that upsets him.”
‘“Indeed!” I said, and went on reading. Then one or two of the Company began to get alarmed; one of them came over and looked curiously at the box, bent close and sniffed suspiciously, and drew back. This whetted the curiosity of others, and several more came around and bent down and sniffed. Then they began to whisper amongst themselves, and one of them asked me point-blank:
‘“Mr Benville Nonplusser, what is in that box?”
‘“Only some pets of mine,” I answered, without looking up from my paper.
‘“Very nasty pets, whatever they are,” she answered tartly. “They smell very nasty.” To which I replied:
‘“We all have our fancies, my dear. You have yours and I have mine; and since all you belonging to this Company have your pets with you, I have determined to establish some of mine. You’ll doubtless grow to like them in time. In fact, you’d better begin, for they are likely to be with you every journey henceforth.”
‘“May we look?” asked one of the young men. I nodded acquiescence, and as he stooped to lift the lid the rest gathered round - all except the man with the mastiff, who had his hands full with that clamorous beast. The young man raised the lid, and as he saw what was within, threw it back as he recoiled, so that it fell over, leaving the whole interior exposed. Then the crowd drew back with a shudder, and some of the women began to scream. I was afraid that they might attract attention, as we were then nearing a station, so I said quietly:
‘“You had better be as quiet as you can. Nothing irritates serpents so much as noise. They think it is their opportunity for seeking prey!” This bold statement seemed to be verified by the fact that some of the boa-constrictors sleepily raised their heads with a faint hissing. Whereupon the crowd simply tumbled over each other in their efforts to reach the further corners of the saloon. By this time the man with the mastiff was becoming exhausted by his struggling with the powerful animal. As I wished to push home my lesson, I said:
‘“You had better keep those dogs quiet. If you don’t, I shall not answer for the consequences. If that mastiff manages to attack the serpents, as he is trying to, they will spring out and fight, and then -” I was silent, for at such a point silence is the true eloquence. The fear of all was manifested by their blanched faces and trembling forms.
‘“I’m afraid I can’t hold him any longer!” gasped out the man.
‘“Then,” said I, “some of your companions who have dogs also should try to help you. If not, it will be too late!” So several others came, and by the aid of their rug-straps they managed to tie the brute securely to a leg of the bench. Seeing that they were nearly all half-paralysed with fright, I lifted the lid to the top of the box again; at which they seemed to breathe more freely. When they saw me actually sitting on the box, something like a far-off smile began to glow on the countenances of some of them. I kept urging them to keep the animals quiet; and as this was a never-ceasing work, they had something to occupy them.
‘I was a little nervous myself at first, and had any of the boa- constrictors knocked his head against the lid of the box I should have made a jump away. However, as they remained absolutely tranquil, my own courage grew.
‘And so some hours passed, with occasional episodes, such as when some one of the many pets would make a disturbance. The singing of the canary, for instance, was resisted with angry curses. But the vials of the wrath of all were emptied forth at its owner when the hitherto silent duck began its homely song, “Quack, quack!”
‘“Will you keep that blasted brute quiet?” came an angry whisper from the worn-out owner of the mastiff. Upon which a good many of those on whom time had had a quieting effect smiled.
‘When my watch told me that we were within a short distance of Carlisle, I stood upon the box and made a little speech:
‘“Ladies and Gentlemen, I trust that the episode of to-day, unpleasant though it may have been, will not be ultimately without beneficial effect. You have learned that each one of you owes something to the general good, and that the selfish pursuance of your own pleasure in small ways has sooner or later to be accounted for. When I remonstrated with each of you as to this animal business, you chose to take your own way, and even went so far as to reconcile your personal and sectional jealousies in order to unite against me. I therefore thought that I would bring the difficulty home to you in a striking way! Have I done so?”
‘For a while there was silence; and then a smile and a faint affirmative answer here and there, so I went on:
‘“Now I hope you will all take it in as good part as I have taken all that went before. Anyhow, my mind is made up. Pets shall be included with babies in the Index Expurgatorius of our tour. In the meantime, for the remainder of this tour, if anyone else brings pets, so shall I; and I think you know that I know how to choose my own. Anyone objecting to this can cancel the engagement right here. Has anyone got anything to say?” Some shrugged their shoulders, but all were silent; and I knew that my victory was complete. As I was stepping down, however, I caught Miss Montressor’s eye as tearfully she looked at me and then at her little dog, so I added:
‘“This does not apply to Miss Montressor, who years ago had permission to take her dog. I shall certainly not deprive her of that privilege now.”
‘And not a soul objected.’
‘Next!’ said the Acting Manager, Mr Wragge, who, being by the needs of his calling a pushful person, usually took such prominent responsibilities as were unallotted or unattached, and who in the present instance had become by a sort of natural selection, manifested by tacit consent of the Company, Master of the Ceremonies.
There was dead silence, for the seance was as yet so young that no one seemed to wish to be put forward. The keen-eyed MC recognised the situation at a glance, and, turning to the Leading Lady on the Manager’s left, said:
‘You’ll have to go on next, Miss Venables. The turn will travel with the wine - if we had any for it to travel with.’ The hint was not lost on the First Low Comedian, who promptly unscrewed the top of his flask and gallantly pushed it, together with a tumbler and the water-bottle, in front of the blushing girl. ‘Here is the wine,’ he said; ‘vin du pays.’ She made a gentle motion of protest, but the Manager poured a small portion of whiskey in the glass, together with a fair supply of water. She acknowledged the courtesy with a pretty little bow, and then turned an appealing eye round the Company. ‘I will with pleasure do what I can for the public good,’ she said, ‘but I am really and truly at a loss to know what to tell. My life has not yet been a very adventurous one, and I don’t know anything worth telling that has ever happened to myself.’
One of the Young Gentlemen, who secretly admired her from afar, blurted out:
‘I know something which would interest us all.’
‘What is that?’ asked the MC quickly. The Young Man blushed and stammered as he answered, looking apprehensively at the object of his devotion, who gazed at him inquiringly with bent brows:
‘It was some joke - something - I don’t know what it was - that they had in the “Her Grace the Blanchisseuse” Company just before I joined them. Someone had sworn them all to secrecy, so no one would tell me why it was that they always spoke of Miss Venables as “Coggins’s Property.”‘
The girl laughed merrily. ‘Oh, I did that. It was too funny altogether. I didn’t mind it myself; but there was another; poor Coggins, who was an excellent fellow, took to heart so much the perpetual chaff of the Company that he sent in his resignation. I knew that he had a wife and family, and would not leave a good situation unless he was really hurt; so I made a personal request to everyone, and they all promised not to tell how the name came to be. But I am not bound, so if you like I will tell you; for the thing is all over long ago, and Coggins is a prosperous builder in the Midlands’
‘Hear! hear!’ came from all, for their expectations were aroused. So the Leading Lady began:
COGGINS’S PROPERTY
‘When I was in “Her Grace the Blanchisseuse”, I had just gone on the stage and played a lot of little parts of a line or two. Sometimes I was a body without a voice, and sometimes a voice without a body!’
‘Vox et praeterea nihil,’ murmured another Young Man, who had been to a public school.
‘Amongst the voice parts was one which was supposed to come from a queen who was in bed in a room off the salon which was represented in the scene. The edge of the bed was dimly seen, and I had to put out a hand with a letter and speak two lines. My attendant took the letter, the door was shut - and that was all. Of course, I had not to dress for the part, except that I put on a little silk and lace jacket, and one sleeve as of a nightdress, so I used to come on from the side just before my cue and slip into, or, rather, on to the bed. Then a property man came with a quilt embroidered with the Imperial Arms, which he threw over me, tucking in the edge nearest the audience. The man originally appointed to this work was Coggins, and as he had a great deal of work to do - for it was a “property” play - he only got to me in time to do his work and clear out before the door opened and my attendant came in. Coggins was an excellent fellow, grave, civil, punctual, sober, and as steady and stolid as a rock. The scene was a silent one, and what appeared to be my room was almost in the dark. The effect to the audience was to see through the lighted salon this dim sleeping chamber; to see a white hand with a letter emerge from the bed curtains, and to hear a drowsy voice as of one newly roused from sleep. There was no opportunity of speaking a word, and no need for it. Coggins knew his work thoroughly, and the stage manager and his assistants insisted on the most rigorous silence. After a few nights, when I found Coggins so attentive in his work, I said “goodnight” when I passed him at the stage-door, and gave him a shilling. He seemed somewhat surprised, but doffed his cap with the utmost respect. Henceforward we always saluted each other, each in our own way; and he had an occasional shilling, which he always received with a measure of surprise. In other portions of his nightly work and mine I often came in contact with, or rather in juxtaposition to, Coggins; but he never seemed to show the same delicate nicety which he exhibited towards me in his manipulations of my tucking-up in “Her Grace the Blanchisseuse”. The piece, as you know, had a long run in London, and then the original Company went round the “Greats” for a whole season. Of course, the Manager took with him all the people who worked in London who were necessary, and amongst them came the excellent and stolid Coggins.
‘After months of work done under all possible conditions, we all came to know our cues so well that we were able to cut the time pretty fine; we often turned up at our places only at the moment of our cues. My own part was essentially favourable for this, and I am afraid I began to cut it a little too fine; for I got to arriving at my place just a second or two before Coggins made his appearance with the Imperial quilt.
‘At last one night, in the Grand at Leeds - you know what a huge theatre it is, and how puzzling to get on the right floor - I went just across the line of safety. I was chatting in the dressing-room with Birdie Squeers, when the call-boy came tearing along the passage shouting: “Miss Venables, Miss Venables. You’re late! Hurry up, or there will be a stage wait!” I jumped for the door and tore along the passage, and got to the back of the stage just in time to meet the stolid Coggins with his stolidity for once destroyed. He had the Imperial quilt as usual folded over one arm, but he was gesticulating wildly with the other. “‘Ere!” he called in a fierce whisper to a group of the other workmen. “Who the ‘ell has took my Property?”
‘“Yer property!” said one of the others. “Garn! ye juggins. Hain’t ye got it on yer arm?”
‘“This! This is all right,” he answered. “That ain’t what I mean. Wot I want is wot I covers up with this.”
‘“Well, and ain’t the bed there? You keep your hair on, and don’t be makin’ a hass of yerself.” I heard no more, for I slipped by and got on to the bed from the back. Coggins had evidently made up his mind that his particular work should not be neglected. He was not responsible for the figure in the bed, but only for putting on the quilt; and on the quilt should go. His look of blank amazement when he found that the quilt did not lie flat as on his first effort amused me. I heard him murmur to himself:
‘“A trick, is it? Puttin’ the Property back like that. I’ll talk to them when the Act’s over.” Coggins was a sturdy fellow, and I had heard him spoken of as a bruiser, so I thought I would see for myself the result of his chagrin. I suppose it was a little cruel of me, but I felt a certain sort of chagrin myself. I was a newcomer to the stage, and I had hitherto felt a sort of interest in Coggins. His tender, nightly devotion to his work, of which I was at least the central figure, had to me its own romantic side. He was of the masses, and I had come of the classes, but he was a man and I a woman, and a man’s devotion is always sweet - to a woman. I had often taken to heart Claude Melnotte’s romantic assumption of Pauline’s reply to his suit:
“That which the Queen of Navarre gave to the poor Troubadour: “Show me the oracle that can tell nations I am beautiful.”
‘But it had begun to dawn upon me that my friend and humble admirer, Coggins, had no interest in me at all. My part in the play came to an end before the close of the scene, and so when the doors were closed I slipped from my place as usual; I did not, however, go to my dressing-room as was my habit, but waited to see what Coggins would do. In his usual course he came and removed his quilt; and again there was a look of annoyed amazement on his face when he found that it lay flat on the bed. Again he murmured:
‘“So they’ve took the Property away again, have they? We’ll see about it presently.” When he had removed the Imperial quilt two other men came, and as usual lifted away the bed, the Empress’s bedroom being opened no more during the play. As there was no more to be done till the play was over, I went to the stage-door, ostensibly to ask if there were any letters for me, but in reality because the workmen usually assembled there when not wanted on the stage, and it was here that I expected the denouement. Several of the carpenters and property men were smoking outside the stage-door, and to them presently came Coggins, thoroughly militant in manner.
‘“Now, you chaps,” he said, “there’s somethin’ I want to know; an’ I mean to ‘ave it, stryte ‘ere! Which of you’s ‘avin’ a lark with me?”
‘“Wot jer’ mean?” said one of the others with equal truculence. He was a local man, and certainly looked like a fighter. “Wot are ye givin’ us?”
‘Coggins, recognising an antagonist worthy of consideration, replied as calmly as he could:
‘“Wot I want to know is ‘oo’s a plyin’ tricks with my Property?”
‘“What property, Coggins?” asked one of his own pals.
‘“Yer know as well as I do; the one wot I covers up on the bed with that quilt.” There was a roar of laughter from the men, and a hail of chaff began to rain on him.
‘“Oh! if that’s your property, Coggins, I wonder what your missis will say when she hears it!”
‘“Why, that ain’t no property; it’s a gal.”
‘“Well, boys, when the divorce is asked for we can prove that there weren’t nothin’ ‘atween ‘em. When old Jeune ‘ears that he didn’t know the differ between a property and a gal, he’ll up and say, “Not guilty. The prisoner leaves the Court without the slightest stain on his character.”
‘Coggins grew very pale and perplexed-looking, and in a changed voice he asked:
‘“Boys, is this all a cod or what?”
‘“Not a bit of a cod,” said one. “Do ye mean to say that you didn’t know that what you tucked up every night was one of the young ladies?”
‘“No!” he answered hotly. “‘Ow could I know it? I never come on except just in time to put on the quilt and tuck it up. It was nearly dark, and it never said nothin’! An’ ‘ow the ‘ell was I to know the bally thing was alive!” This was said with such an air of sincerity that it broke me all up, and I burst into laughter. Coggins turned angrily round, but, seeing me, took off his cap with his usual salute.
‘“That’s yer Property, Coggins!” said one of the men; and Coggins was speechless.
‘Of course, he was unmercifully chaffed, and so was I. Various members of the Company used to come up to me on all sorts of occasions, and, after gazing into my eyes and touching me, would say in a surprised way:
